


inferno

by seeshells



Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Post-Game(s), Slow Burn, There's a lot of that, gary isn't abusive to pete in this one lol, gary just kinda sucks in this one, gary never went to happy volts but he did get expelled, ill add tags as i go, oh yeah and gary is trans, pete is too nice, slow burn like really slow burn, suggestive content but nothing explicit, theres honestly just a lot of apologizing, warnings for any other content is before each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2020-07-07 22:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19859122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeshells/pseuds/seeshells
Summary: "I'm in love with you, I think.""Sucks to be you, I guess."In which Gary is stupid, and Pete is stupid-er.





	1. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary is a shit boyfriend.  
> 

Falling.

He was falling quick and fast, the ground rapidly approaching. He could see the people and scenery below him get bigger and bigger the longer he was airborne. He felt his heart hammering in his chest, blood pumping in his ears, and his stomach doing backflips again and again. All he wanted to do was screw his eyes shut and wait to collide with the morbidly beautiful countryside he was quickly heading towards. He could imagine almost every bone in his body shattering. No matter how hard he tried just to hit the ground and _die_ , he couldn't. He was falling for eternity, and he hated it.

He suddenly landed not-so-gracefully, and abruptly jolted upright. He frantically looked around and found that he was in bed, in his room, at home. He slowed his breathing, which in turn slowed his heartbeat (that was beating so fast he was worried it would burst).

After collecting himself, he flopped back onto the bed and let his head rest against the pillows, the realization that his close call wasn't based in reality washing over him. His dreams rarely were themed, but if they had to be, it was falling. He tried to logically explain that way by contributing it to his so-called final battle with Hopkins, but he could never really shake the feeling that there was more to it. It wasn't that Gary was afraid of falling or god-forbid heights. No, it was more the loss of control that he couldn't stand.

He glanced over at the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed through hazy eyes; it appeared to say something along the lines of 2 pm. It wasn't horrifyingly late (for Gary at least), but it was enough to make him drag himself out of bed. His bare feet hit the cold wood floor, sending a shiver up his legs and waking him up a bit more. He made his way out the door and into the living room, not bothering to do his morning routine in the conjoined bathroom. After a quick sweep of the house, he concluded that his boyfriend and roommate had left for work already. Despite them having dated for almost a year now, Gary had never bothered to learn the schedule of his partner; besides, it never impacted him much, so he didn't see a real point to it.

Making his way to the kitchen, Gary surveyed the refrigerator for something to eat after the perilous journey that is sleep, as he liked to put it. He found nothing of interest, except a few eggs that were a good week past their expiration date. As riveting as it could be to stand in front of the fridge and stare soullessly at spoiled food, Gary closed the door and went to sit down at the dining table. He convinced himself that if those eggs weren't rotting at the speed of light, he could have made a great omelette. His mind drifted to several other places during the good half-hour that was spent sitting there, but it finally made it's way to the objective of the day. Gary hadn't meticulously planned his schedule per usual.

He arrived at the thought that he could make himself useful for once and buy some groceries for the house, seeing as his omelette plans did not come to fruition. Gary grumbled getting up and trudged back into his bedroom. Spotting his bed once again tempted him to go back to sleep and speed through the day, but his earlier nightmare made him decide against it. Gary perused his closet for something to wear and threw on the first thing he saw, a t-shirt and jeans; outward appearances were the least of Gary's concerns. He quickly ducked into the bathroom to run something through his hair to give it some semblance of shape but to no real avail.

He made a mental note to get a haircut later.

After grabbing his keys, Gary finally stepped outside, a chill gust of wind hitting him square in the face. Suddenly, he regretted his light choice of clothing but didn't want to be bothered to change, so he started his trip to the store. Gary generally liked walks; they never failed to clear his head. The only thing Gary didn't like was going outside and having to deal with possible interaction. He wasn't an introvert per se, but he wasn't what you'd call a people person either.

Gary had been called many things throughout his life, psychopath, sociopath, and various other insults for the mentally ill; but he was everything else. He was smart; he knew he was smart. He seemed to attract anyone but, though; seeing as a girl ran up to him calling his name.

"Gary Smith!" She exclaimed, stopping just short of him.

He didn't recognize her at all and had no way of placing her overly-average face.

"Hey!" He replied, trying to mimic her sickeningly sweet tone.

"It's been so long since Bullworth, huh?"

 _Oh, she was from Bullworth, part of the hundreds of students who saw him publicly embarrass himself, then promptly get expelled_ , Gary thought.

"Yeah, it really has," He tried his best to sound interested, "how are you?"

The girl then continued to babble on about some nonsense related to Bullworth, something about Jimmy, and another tidbit about Lola or some other broad.

"-and Pete became Head Boy too! I'm so proud."

That made Gary stumble. He had come to resent everyone in the hellhole that is Bullworth; except for Pete. As annoying and weak as Petey could be, Gary had to admit that he was a good companion before Jimmy came and fucked up his plans.

"Ah, yeah, good for him."

"Well, it's been great to see you, Gary!" She smiled.

"Of course, always a pleasure." And he smiled in return.

The mystery woman then turned on her heel and sped off, Gary's smile fading as soon as she left.

Gary looked to his side and saw that the sun was... setting? Had he really been out that long? He was never good at keeping track of time, but this was something new entirely. The thought of his partner possibly having gotten home by now was a passing thought, and Gary was captivated. He didn't exactly believe in love, but the sun and how it cascades towards the horizon was the closest he ever wanted to get to it.

After a moment or two of reflection, he began his walk back.

The later it got, the colder the temperature dropped, and the faster Gary walked. He strung together a row of profanities aimed at himself for so stupidly choosing his outfit for the afternoon. After a brisk speedwalk, he arrived at his 'luxurious abode'.

Gary stepped through the door after unlocking it, silently closing it behind him, hoping he could slip into bed with no complications; but once again, he was wrong.

"Where were you, babe?" His boyfriend asked, running up to him as soon as he came in.

Gary winced and made an audible noise of annoyance, possibly on accident. He hated that nickname.

"I was out." He mumbled.

"Out where?"

"Just out."

Gary was met with silence.

"You know I don't-"

Gary cut him off, "-like me leaving without you knowing, I know."

"Then why'd you do it?" He snapped.

"What?" Gary was taken aback by the sudden harshness in his partners tone.

"You always ignore what I say, Gary." His face darkened. "You never listen to me."

"Where did this come from?"

"Where did this come from? Are you kidding me? For the past year, all you've done is stay at my house that I work for. You've given me nothing in return!"

"What the fuck?"

"I'm so sick of this."

Gary didn't respond; he couldn't respond. For once in his stupid life, someone shut him up.

"You don't understand, I-" Gary started.

"No. No, _you_ don't understand, Gary." He bit back, "I do everything for _you_ , and you can't listen to one fucking request."

Gary could feel anger building in the pit of his stomach; rage that had been pent up through a whole year of pretending to like this idiot.

"Do you even care about me?" His boyfriend asked.

Gary didn't answer. His silence was a weapon, and god damn it, he would wield it.

"God, I can't believe I-" A laugh interrupted the other boy's sentence. "I can't believe I fell for your shit for this long!"

Silence.

"Nothing to say for yourself?"

Silence.

"You're a psycho; you know that?"

"So I've been told."

"I'm sick of you and your pills taking up all this room."

"I'm sick of you too, darling."

His words were dripping with malice, and he meant all of it. It was draining trying to love this manipulative son of a bitch.

Now they were both silent.

Gary looked up to match the other boy's gaze and was met with cold eyes boring into him. Thunder shook the house, and Gary then realized that it had been raining for a bit.

"Whatever," Gary interjected, "I'm going to bed." and he turned to go back to his room; but before he could make any progress, his boyfriend grabbed his arm to stop him.

"No."

He turned to face him, "I'm sorry?"

"Get out."

Gary visibly paled, the most emotion he'd probably shown to his partner in a good while.

"No." He said under his breath, twisting his arm free.

"Get the fuck out, you psycho."

Gary smirked obnoxiously.

"Fuck you."

"In your dreams."

"Get out before I call the cops."

"I dare you."

"Don't test me, Gary."

"Feisty tonight, huh?"

Gary was angry. He felt his knuckles going white from clenching his fists, and he knew if he didn't get out quick, he'd snap. He honestly didn't care if he hurt the man or not, but he preferred not to go to jail tonight.

Gary wasn't one to admit defeat, so he left in silence, nothing constructive left to be said, but he would be lying if he didn't consider cursing the bastard out.

Now he was standing outside, in the pouring rain, with nowhere to go and none of his belongings. So he bolted out to the bus stop near his old house and took refuge under the covered bench. He was drenched head to toe, filled with nothing but disdain towards his now-ex boyfriend. As uncomfortable as he was, the rain gave him a moment to himself to think; to think about the reasons he stayed there, the reasons he got kicked out, and if his ex was right about him.

Of course, he wasn't, Gary thought. He had done a lot for his boyfriend, and he just couldn't remember what at the moment; yeah, that's it.

Thousands of words bounced around in Gary's head, creating a cyclone of regrets, apologies, and insults, and he wasn't sure who any of them were directed at. One thought was the most prominent though, where would he go? He couldn't just go homeless, that'd be ridiculous, but he had no one in this town to ask for help.

Bullworth wouldn't house him for one million dollars, and Jimmy would kick his teeth in swiftly. So he had one person left. Gary started his trudge towards his best friend's house, shivering the whole way there. He was sure that his shirt was transparent by this time, which in all honesty didn't bother him.

When he finally arrived at the front door of the dreaded house (which Gary noted to look just as ratty as it did when he visited about a year ago), he felt his stomach tie in knots. He was cold and needed somewhere to stay; that's all this was.

He reached out to knock on the door, his hand shaking the whole way there, which he told himself was due to the rain. He pounded on the door and waited. Then he thought that maybe he knocked too loud, or perhaps too soft. Maybe he wasn't home? Gary thought it best to turn around immediately and go live on the streets but was broke out of his thoughts by the creaking of a wood door.

"Gary?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still writing for bully in 2019 get Over It. also i'm so sorry if this was boring... criticism is appreciated, just pls be nice (:


	2. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is far too nice for his own good.

"Gary?"

The door opened to reveal a boy, not too tall but not too short either. He had dark brown hair cut short, but not as short as Gary remembered it to be; he looked exhausted as if Gary had interrupted him from finishing something.

"Hey." He replied after a brief pause.

The boy looked baffled; his eyes widened, and eyebrows raised, causing his nose to scrunch slightly. His gaze was dragging up and down Gary, causing him more than a little uneasiness.

"Uh, hello?" Gary interrupted. "Earth to Petey?"

"Oh," Pete said. "sorry. You can come in."

Pete shouldered open the door and stepped back, giving Gary some space to enter. He slid past the shorter boy and took a quick look inside. The house was dimly lit with wood floors and pale yellow wallpaper, a wood fireplace crackling. It was cosy, Gary could give him that.

After locking and deadbolting the door, Pete turned to face the other boy.

"So," he started. "what brings you here this late?"

It was a question, but Gary heard it more as a statement; it sounded curt and irritated, which wasn't very comforting.

"I got kicked out." He stated blatantly.

Pete didn't react to what Gary was saying; mostly because he couldn't say he was very surprised. Gary Smith was pretty good at getting kicked out from many places, and Pete just couldn't imagine what he did this time. As much fun as it could be for Pete to pick him apart mentally, he did feel a bit of pity. Gary was standing there soaking wet and didn't have a place to live.

"C' mon, you're getting water on my floor."

He led Gary down a hallway and into a bathroom, instructing him to dry himself off the best he could, and meet him in the living room after.

"It's down the hall and to the left." He said and shuffled away.

Gary stood on the cold, hard, tile floor and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked a mess, his hair plastered to the back of his neck and his forehead, his clothes were sopping wet, and he looked as if he would pass out in roughly 6 minutes. His freckles were virtually invisible from how much color had drained from his face, and his bones felt abnormally heavy. How did he score his last partner? And why'd he stick around so long? Gary could get a new guy effortlessly; he knew he was attractive enough.

Then why did he get kicked out, he asked himself. He thought he was good enough for that guy to care for, but maybe he was wrong. Gary could feel every thought bouncing around in his head, and the most noticeable one was not to fuck this up. He had an opportunity at having a place to stay, Petey was kind enough. Back in school, he was always kind of a push-over; Gary hoped he kept that same mentality.

After realizing how long he spent looking at himself, he hastily dried himself off and headed into the living room. He saw Pete sat on the couch with some papers in his hands, looking deep in thought. Gary wasn't sure how to approach him and ask if he could live in his house for a while, so he ended up just standing in the doorway awkwardly, watching Pete work at whatever he could have been doing. Pete was staring at those papers so intensely, Gary swore he could have burnt holes through them. His nose was, once again, scrunched in the middle and his brow furrowed as a result of his concentration.

It then occurred that if Gary was caught staring at his potential new roommate, that could be seen as a little more than weird. Instead of gawking like an idiot, he decided to sit on the couch across from the other boy. So he sat there, in the middle of the sofa, and waited for Pete to say something.

After a good couple of minutes, Pete finally looked up from his papers and placed them beside him. They seemed to stare at each other in silence, the crackling of the fireplace drowning out any other noise. As uncomfortable as this could come off to someone on the outside, to Gary, it was a confirmation; Pete wasn't berating Gary with any insults or dirty looks, they were simply sitting there, existing together. The fire lit up the side of Pete's face, which had an indescribable look of softness painted across his features; this was strangely comforting for Gary to see.

Comforting silence was a new feeling for someone like Gary.

Pete's withdrawn voice broke the silence, "Tell me what happened."

Gary tried to explain as best he could, about how his boyfriend kicked him out for no real reason, how he has nowhere to go, and some other sad shit to spice it up.

"I see." He stated, rather blandly.

"So I wanted to ask-"

"If you could stay here."

"...Yeah."

"And what'd you actually do to get thrown out?"

"What? I just told you."

"I'm not 14 anymore, Gary. We're both adults here, what _really_ happened?"

Gary didn't respond, mostly because he didn't know what to say. What did really happen?

"Did you try to take over the world again?" He laughed.

Gary looked away from Pete's gaze, which used to be comforting, but now felt confronting and cruel. He felt as if he was being scrutinized by the person sitting across from him again. Gary knew it was a joke, but it felt more like a subtle jab.

Pete wasn't stupid; he could read a room, and he knew that Gary was uncomfortable. He didn't necessarily feel bad, but he thought to correct his mistake.

He cleared his throat, "Let me rephrase that,"

Gary looked back at Pete.

"What happened to you?"

As vague of a question as this was, Pete felt that it was essential and something they needed to address. After all, not only did his former friend look different from his new, longer, shaggy hair, and multiple new scars, but he was quieter and more reserved. If his memory was serving him correctly, Gary Smith was a boisterous, loud, energetic, funny, and sometimes rude boy. Maybe he just grew up; Pete wasn't sure. Gary looked confused, and in return, Pete sighed.

"Get me up to speed Gary, what happened after you got expelled?"

"Oh," Gary said in a hushed voice, "I tried to go home. That shit didn't work out very well."

Pete moved closer to the edge of his seat, trying his best to give his full attention.

"I spent a while job-hopping and whatever."

"You didn't go back to school?"

"Nah, mom and dad didn't give a shit, and neither did I."

"Did you live with them?"

"Yeah, for about three or so years, and um," He was stuttering. "I met this guy when I was out. After a bit he let me crash at his place for about a year," He paused again, "I think."

"A guy you just met let you live with him?"

"I have my charms."

"That's debatable."

The conversation fizzled out after that; they once again were faced with sounds of the flames in the fireplace and nothing else. Gary was getting tired, and the warm demeanour of the house was very inviting in contrast to the cold and dark storm outside he was trapped in so recently. Not to mention, the faint smell of honey and burnt cinnamon added to the drowsy atmosphere, and Gary could happily collapse on this sofa right here and now.

"How'd you score the house, Petey?"

"You don't remember? It's my parents', they moved out and gave it to me after I graduated."

Gary didn't remember; the last time he had visited Pete and his family was when he had to have been about 12 years old, and he had a hard time remembering the previous year. In all honesty, Gary recalled his life in moments, small flashes that he would put together to form a cohesive narrative someday. Pete was a bit different. He liked to remember the little details, and could barely remember the big things sometimes. Although Gary was observant, he would notice and remember minuscule aspects of people and things for at least a few days. Pete would say that nothing got past him back in their Bullworth days.

Which made Pete wonder, why did Gary not continue his education? Gary wasn't stupid, although he wasn't as genius as he liked to call himself. Gary excelled in academics, Pete knew this; he was restricted when confined to classrooms and workbooks. Gary was an enigma; he could work through all of the schoolyear's work in a month at most if he wanted to, but he never would. Gary liked to utilize his intellect, but in the worst possible way. He could be manipulative and controlling if he wanted to; he was socially smart. Pete knew this better than anyone else, and he was more than wary, but he felt that something had changed. Pete wasn't sure what was different, but the gears turning in Gary's head moved differently than they used to.

"Well, I'm glad you got something out of your parents."

Pete knew better than to bring up Gary's parents, so instead, he brought up a new topic.

"Do you really want to stay here for a few days?"

"Can I?"

"I mean, I suppose you can. I have a spare bedroom over there." He gestured down the hallway he had disappeared to before to indicate the first door on the right.

"Okay," Gary said.

"Okay," Pete replied, quieter than before.

And they left it at that.

Pete picked his papers back up and fell into his deep interest of whatever could have been printed on them.

Gary picked himself up from the couch and began to walk to the door he was directed towards by Pete. When he reached it, he turned back to take one last glance at the boy reading intently, and he was met with two hazel eyes staring back at him. Quickly turning away, Gary made his way into the spare bedroom.

The room sported one window against the wall, a full-length mirror in the corner leaned against an old dresser, a bed with green linen sheets tucked under the mattress, and a single lamp placed on the nightstand beside the bed. In contrast to the rest of the house, the floor was covered with a soft, grey carpet, and Gary felt bad for tracking the water and mud from his shoes onto it.

He sat himself down on the side of the bed and pulled his shoes and socks off, which was always oddly calming to him; he liked to think of it as freeing himself from the day's troubles. He was still cold, mostly because his clothes were more than slightly damp, but also because Pete didn't bother to invest in some fucking central heating.

After reflecting on Pete's poor choice of home necessities, he got under the covers and let himself relax for the first time that day. He allowed himself to feel every detail of the blanket brushing over his skin, trying to think about that instead of everything running through his head. Gary was never good at getting ideas to leave him alone. Small points that he remembered throughout the day nagged at him, like how Pete squinted his eyes at him when he arrived at his door, or how his ex-partner's touch had been slowly fading in intensity for weeks now.

Like his past lover, Gary felt he was waning as well.

He hated it.

He hated _this_.

Whatever this was.

It didn't matter anyway.

Gary turned off the lamp, was pitched into darkness, and fell into his routine and heavy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry this took so long to get out! i've been doing a lot of stuff with my band recently and haven't had too much time to write. but here u all go! also for the future i have to establish that the ages i have set for the game canon is that gary was 15 and pete was 14. if u dont like it, write ur own fic.  
> criticism is appreciated just pls be nice!


	3. Attic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary contemplates his life choices and Pete carries groceries.

For the next few days, Gary would wake up suddenly to a bright, orange light flooding through the single window across from his bed. He would tug at some of the skin on his face to wake himself up, which was usually unsuccessful. After this routine, Gary would throw his legs over the bed and try to stand up without feeling faint and falling over, a common occurrence for someone at Gary's height. He'd make his way over to wherever he threw his spare clothes him and Pete had bought for him and pick out something random to wear. Ignoring his appearance in the full-length mirror, Gary would find his way to the kitchen. Pete had never been home when Gary woke up, so he would leave a note of some kind, detailing chores that Gary could do until his return.

He would finish these rather quickly as soon as he decided to do it (which usually took a few hours) and then look around the house for his entertainment. He had explored every room besides Pete's bedroom and the attic, and today was the attic day. At one point, Gary had debated if he should go into Pete's room but decided against it because of some respect for his privacy. Gary wasn't _that_ rude, although he did have his moments occasionally. 

The stairway up to the attic was pulled down from a trapdoor on the ceiling of the second-floor hallway. Gary had to jump to reach the cord used to pull down the stairs and wondered how Pete was able to get up there. After the stairs extended down, Gary slowly climbed upwards, the stairs shaking with every step. Near the top, he tripped on a plank, gripping the wood floor above to catch his balance, a spare chip of wood caught in the grooves of his finger. Once Gary pulled himself up into the attic, he tried to pull out the splinter himself, to no avail. Shaking his hand off in an attempt to numb the pain, he took a long glance around the deceptively spacious room. Boxes, stacked to the ceiling made Gary claustrophobic, and on top of a this-side-up flipped the wrong way up, was a record player. Gary had never seen Pete own any types of vinyl, but he assumed he kept them somewhere up here.

Gary rapidly threw around the idea of looking through the boxes in his head, and ultimately decided that a few boxes wouldn't hurt.

He shuffled through the first few and found nothing of real interest besides a few exciting letters between relatives. On the fourth box he picked through, there was a stack of old polaroids and other framed photos. There were pictures of Pete with his mother and father, graduation photos, old pets, house repairs, other family members, baby photos, and other various achievements. Looking at all these memories printed on paper, Gary began to feel sentimental. He hadn't been there for any of these events, but looking at the expressions of people in photos, he could almost feel exactly as they felt. Pete looked happy or at least content in every picture, a stark contrast to every family document in Gary's attic (which he had never seen but was sure existed).

He swore he felt a small pang of sadness down deep in his chest, but ignored it and continued to look through some more boxes. He came across the stack of records in the next few containers, it was mostly old music from the '90s or early 2000s, along with some reggae spaced around for flavor(?). Each record had a strip of tape on the top left corner, with the name "Kowalski" scribbled on the surface. Gary assumed it was his parents', he vaguely remembered Pete's dad saying something about reggae when he has last visited.

When did he last visit anyways? He honestly couldn't remember. A lot of his childhood was foggy, including his time with Pete. They lived somewhat close and went to the same elementary school before transferring to Bullworth. He remembered them being friends, but he wasn't sure _why_ they were friends. Did he do something for Pete? Did Pete do something for him? He didn't know, and he had to ask sometime.

But did he really? Pete might find it insulting that he didn't remember their entire childhood friendship. And Pete controlled if Gary has a place to live. He could kick him out at any time. Maybe he would find out Gary was in the attic and get mad at him. Perhaps he'd force Gary to return to his ex's house. Pete could hold this over his head and force him to do things, to take advantage of him. Pete could do anything, and Gary could do nothing.

Though he did not see it at the time, Gary finally put himself in Pete's shoes. A complete role reversal had occurred, and it was terrifying to both boys. To Gary, he was a scared victim who had no power over the other party, which he hated. To Pete, he was finally able to inflict pain on his highschool bully, which he also hated. Pete was a gentle person, he wasn't weak, but he was kind. He believed Gary could be kind too and found that this turn of events could be a way for Gary to start anew. Pete didn't recognize him when the boy walked through his door, sopping wet. He was always bigger than Pete, in size and stature. Ever the advantage over the smaller boy, their friendship was tried and true, even though it wasn't a very traditional definition of "friendship". These thoughts were running through Pete's head as he drove home from a long day.

Pulling up to the driveway, Gary could see him from the windows upstairs and rushed down to greet him, forgetting to push the stairs back up behind him. Skipping steps on his way down, he quickly slowed himself before Pete opened the door.

"Hey, Petey," Gary said, "what'd you do today?"

"Worked, got groceries," Pete responded, pushing the door open with his foot with arms full of groceries, "how'd the chores go?"

"They were fine," he said, flopping down on the couch, "I didn't break any plates this time."

"Finally!" He laughed.

Gary replied with a low chuckle and looked over as Pete removed his shoes and began to put groceries away.

"How was work?" Gary asked, breaking the silence. 

"It was okay, boring but it was fine."

The silence continued after that, and Gary absentmindedly picked at the splinter in his finger, sucking in a sharp breath when he accidentally pushed it in deeper.

"You okay, dude?" Pete asked, turning around and pausing his process of sorting groceries.

"Yeah, I just-" He paused, remembering his carelessness in closing up the attic, "must have hit it on something, I'm fine."

"Let me take a look." He said, making his way over to the couch. 

"It's okay, don't-" He responded, getting cut off by Pete, grabbing his hand.

"Hmm..." Pete vocalized, running his hands over the pads of Gary's fingers, "Looks like a splinter."

Gary's thoughts were going a million miles an hour, and his adrenaline kicked in. He wasn't sure why, but he knew it was partially because he was panicking (most likely because of the attic). 

Pete was shuffling through a kitchen cabinet with an intent to find something, Gary wasn't sure what, so he asked.

"Oh, tweezers." Pete replied.

"Why?"

"For that splinter, you idiot."

So Gary just numbly sat there and waited for him to return to the couch, his finger throbbing while he waited. When he returned with tweezers and a bandaid in hand, Gary shivered in anticipation, this feeling strangely confrontational. Pete's hands worked smoothly and steady, removing the splinter and wrapping a bandaid around the other boy's finger. Gary looked up at Pete's face to see him weirdly concentrated, before looking up and facing him. It was brief, but Pete could swear he saw Gary's eyes dart down. A mumbled thanks came from the boy under him, and Pete left the sofa to continue putting away food.

Wordlessly, Gary snuck out of the room as quietly as he could to close the trapdoor before Pete stumbled across it. He skipped up the stairs once again and began to push the attic stairs back to their original position. There must have been too much noise because Pete could be heard calling his name down in the kitchen. Gary made a panicked sound and tried to push the stairs up rapidly, but they jammed in a particular position, and he couldn't close them in time. Pete rushed up the stairs to see what was going on and found a disgruntled Gary trying to fix his attic stairs. Pete stared blankly and was frankly dumbfounded at what the _fuck_ his brunette ex-friend could be doing. 

"Were you up in the attic?"

"...Uh," He stuttered. "maybe?"

"How did you get up there?" He asked with a strange lilt.

"I jumped?"

"Pull the stairs down, would you?"

Gary nodded and stopped holding the stairs up as they fell with a gentle thud. Pete climbed up them, much more carefully than Gary had earlier, and motioned for him to follow. Trailing behind, he arose to see Pete looking excitedly around the space he had just been tampering with.

"Oh dude," He exclaimed, and Gary relaxed because the calmness of his voice seemed to offset his worries, "I haven't been up here in years."

"Why not?"

"I can't reach the stairs." He laughed, looking back with gleaming eyes,

"I used to come up here all the time with my dad, and we'd listen to music up here all day." He said as he gestured to the record player. 

"Do you still use it?"

"This old thing? No way, I can't find any records to use anyways."

Gary leaned against a stack of heavy boxes as he watched and listened to Pete, rattle off stories about him and his dad. It was just now that Gary took note of what Pete was wearing that day, a black and blue striped sweater with a dress shirt collar peeping out from the neckline, tucked into some ripped blue jeans. Maybe Pete's style had improved since Bullworth, Gary thought.

"He'd store all his books up here when the library was getting redone, and I wasn't allowed here because of it." He paused and gasped, "Maybe they're still up here!"

It was calming in a way; he hadn't seen Pete so genuinely excited in well, forever. He was shuffling through boxes before he seemed to jump up.

Gary chuckled, "What'd you find, champ?"

Pete grazed past the nickname and held up an old, dusty record sleeve, "Look!"

Gary tilted his head in confusion, "At what?"

Pete blew on it, dust going right into Gary's face, him coughing and sneezing in reaction.

"Yeah, fuck you too." He said, rubbing his nose.

"It's my dad's old Heart album!" He laughed.

"Heart?"

"You wouldn't know them," He replied, throwing the album into his off-hand, "you only listen to your punk garbage."

"It's not garbage." Gary snorted.

"Uhuh," He nodded, "whatever helps you sleep at night."

Gary tossed his hair to the side in response. Pete pulled the record out delicately and placed it on the player before dropping the needle. "If Looks Could Kill" faded in, a steady crackle accompanying it.

_Caught you in the act, can't put up with that._

Pete's face visibly lit up, and Gary lifted an eyebrow in response. He began to bounce up and down a little bit, looking back at Gary.

"C'mon," He motioned, "dance with me!"

_Messing where you shouldn't be_

"That's dancing?"

_I wanna hear you say you're sorry_

"Hell yeah, it is!"

Pete's elation was infectious at the moment, and Gary just had to go along with it. For once, it wasn't out of fear or need, but out of wanting. Things felt right at the moment, and he tried to keep it that way. So Gary let Pete grab his hand and swing him around the room, and he felt happiness. 

_'Cause nobody takes advantage of me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took 2 whole months oops. i like this chapter a lot and i hope y’all do too! ily all have a good day/night <3


	4. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary and Pete relax after a long day.

After a few hours of dancing in the attic, the two boys stumbled down into the living room. Pete chuckled at something Gary muttered and collapsed on the couch.

"Oh my god," Pete laughed. "what about the time we skipped and went to the mall and ran into Mrs. Woods there?"

Gary smiled, remembering how mad their 7th-grade teacher was when they caught her eye. "What was she even doing there?"

"She was in the alcohol aisle," Pete sat up. "draw your own conclusions."

"Speaking of which," Gary was rummaging through the pantry. "do you have any?"

"Any what?"

"Bingo!" Gary turned around, holding a bottle of red wine by the neck. "Alcohol, genius."

"Rosé?" Pete was squinting. "What are you? Forty?"

Gary laughed heartily, a pleasant departure from his usual icy snicker. "Do you want a glass?"

"Only if you're having some."

"I imagine you're a horrible drunk." He smirked while pouring two cups.

"I bet you're worse." Pete retorted. "You know we have wine glasses, right?"

Gary exhaled through his nose; _we_ have glasses. "Yeah, but what's the fun in that?"

"Good point," He said, taking a glass from Gary's hand. "and a plastic one at that? Where's the class?"

"Class isn't really my style." Gary smiled, sitting down next to Pete.

"Yeah, I know." He hummed.

The two boys sat on opposite sides of the couch and sipped their wine. Well, Pete sipped- Gary's style of drinking could be better defined as gulping. 

"Slow down, dude," Pete poked Gary in the side. "you're gonna give yourself a headache."

"It's not ice cream. I'll live." After downing his glass, he got up to get another drink. He stayed at the island instead of returning to the couch and saw Pete stretch out and relax.

"You a lightweight, Petey?" He leaned on his elbows.

"Oh yeah," Pete laughed. "just look at me. You?"

Gary snorted, "Take a wild guess."

"I've never seen you drunk."

"And you never will. Want another?"

"At the pace you're going, I just might." Pete sat up once again. "And- yeah, sure. I don't have anywhere to be."

"God, you're such a straightedge," Gary said as he poured another glass. "lighten up."

"Look who's talking." He said as he reached for the drink.

Gary returned to the island. "Yeah, the cooler one."

"Fuck you!" Pete giggled.

"You wish."

Pete coughed into his hand. Usually, that would have made him uncomfortable, but the wine was doing its job, and he stuck out his tongue in Gary's direction instead. Pete felt warm and comforted and thought he might be able to melt into the sofa right then and there.

"Hey, Gary?" Gary hummed in response.

"Do you miss Bullworth?"

"No," Gary replied coldly. "not at all."

"Are you sure?"

Gary tilted his head, was he sure? Bullworth treated him like dirt and ruined his reputation beyond repair, but he had to admit he had some fond memories. Relaxing behind the school with Pete after class, or going out into town occasionally. He remembered freshman year when he went to the carnival with an old friend of his, and he enjoyed himself. It was an escape from school, from bullies, from parents, and himself.

"Yeah," Gary croaked out. "it doesn't miss me, so why should I miss it?"

"I guess," Pete said. "I'm sure people remember you."

"They remember me because of the absolute fool I made of myself."

"You had your um-" Pete stuttered. "charms."

"Yeah, like falling off of the roof."

Pete paused in thought. "Have you talked to Jimmy since then?"

"Of course not, he doesn't want anything to do with me."

"He used to talk about you a lot."

"Good for him, glad I made a lasting impression." Gary retorted sarcastically.

"Gary, he wasn't making fun of you."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure."

"You guys used to be friends."

"Used to is the keyword here."

"That's a phrase, actually."

Pete giggled at his joke, Gary smiled. Although he didn't appreciate the interrogation of his psyche, he was glad Pete didn't pry too much.

"If I remember correctly, you got a C+ in grammar."

"Maybe," Pete was still coming down from his laughing fit. "you know I'm not a man of words." Gary handed him another drink. Pete took it and mumbled a thank you.

"That you are not. Speaking of, do you have work tomorrow?"

"Nope!" Pete said, energetically. "I am free all day, and I'm sure you want to take me out to lunch."

"I'll pass on the lunch," Gary smiled. "but I'm sure you're gonna be hungover tomorrow."

"Nah," Pete said, throwing his hands up. "I'm chilling."

"I'm sure you are." Gary trailed off. "Pete?"

"Mm?"

"Are we friends?"

"I don't know."

Gary tucked his knees into his chest. "What does that mean?"

"I mean," Pete started. "we definitely were friends at some point. I'm not sure about now."

Gary opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted. "I mean yeah, I'm letting you stay at my house. But I'm not sure if I can consider you a friend."

"Why not?" Gary asked, feeling slightly hurt.

"Trust is a two-way street, dude." Pete went silent. "But I..."

He wracked his brain for something to say. "I still care about you, Gary."

He froze in the middle of a sip. He replayed the sentence in his head, over and over. Maybe he was making to big of a deal about this, but he suddenly felt the urge to do better, like he needed to give more and take less. He was staying at his old classmate's house, and not providing anything in return.

"I'm sorry," Gary said, softer than he should have.

Gary waited a minute but heard no reply. He peered over the side of the sofa to see Pete's sleeping face illuminated by the steady glow of the fireplace. Gary smiled to himself and noticed a blanket folded over the side of an armchair in the room. He threw it over Pete and hoped that showed at least a slight bit of dedication. He sat down on the couch across from Pete and relaxed a bit. He understood why the other boy had fallen asleep so quickly; the steady crackle and subtle warmth of the fireplace could easily lull one to sleep.

So Gary did what he did best, he started to think. He thought about everything that had happened the past few days, about his ex-boyfriend, about Jimmy, and Pete especially. He made his way over to the fireplace and spread the ashes over the fire, killing the embers slowly.

Pete woke up to a cold, dark house.

"Gary?" Pete croaked, voice coated in sleep. No response.

He tugged the chain on the lamp next to the couch, the room illuminated. Gary was nowhere to be found. He sat straight, throwing the blanket (he wondered how that got there) off of his legs, and stumbled up to look for his roommate. After checking Gary's room, his room, and the attic, he decided Gary wasn't inside the house. Pete's heart dropped, he felt faint, and he knew where Gary was. He grabbed his coat and ran out of the door. 

The cold night air was a smack in the face to a still slightly drunk and tired Pete, but adrenaline was kicking in. He slid into the driver's seat of his car and most likely broke many traffic laws on his way. The rain was heavy and relentless, and Pete's windshield wipers were doing almost nothing to clear his vision. Pulling up to the house, he jumped out of the car and saw the gate swung wide open. He felt even fainter when he made his way to the doorway.

Gary's ears were ringing; his ex-partner's voice was much more shrill than he remembered.

"You can't just march into my fucking house and take whatever you want!" He screamed.

"It wasn't random shit," Gary yelled. "this is my stuff that you took!"

"Took?" His partner snorted in disdain. "You abandoned your belongings when you started mistreating me."

"I didn't do a thing to you, maniac."

"Look who's talking!" He thrust his index finger into Gary's chest. "You won't even look at your own boyfriend!"

Gary slapped his hand away. "Don't fucking touch me." 

His ex glared at him. "I didn't want to get violent with you."

"Well, here we are, Shakespeare." Gary threw his hands in the air dramatically. "I just need my meds and my clothes, and I'll be out of your hair." 

"Too bad, it's gone."

"What?!" Gary screamed, even louder than before. "The only things I had left and you threw them out? You're an asshole."

"Consider them payment for a whole fucking year."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd punch you."

"I dare you to, psycho."

Gary clenched his fists and felt ready to swing- but soon released his grip because he didn't feel like going to jail tonight. "You wish I-" His words abruptly stopped when he felt a sharp sting across his face. 

All bets were off.

Gary shoved him away as hard as he could, stumbling backward from the impact. 

"Fuck you," he spat. "I didn't want you to house me."

"Hah!" he stood back up, towering over Gary. "You needed me. Without my help, you'd still be on your parents' doorstep."

"Shut up."

"I could stand you when they obviously couldn't."

"You don't know shit about them, or me."

"I know enough to see that they didn't want you, and neither do I, babe."

That was the last straw; Gary's stomach turned over and flared with rage. Every month spent with him was building up to this. He pulled back his fist and hit as hard as he could. For how many times he skipped gym class, Gary could throw a mean punch.

Pete, observing all of this through the window, pounded on the door as hard as he could. "Gary!" He yelled.

After thoroughly nursing his nose, now bloody, he turned to Gary and growled, "Oh, look, we have a guest!"

"God, not now, Pete." Gary groaned.

"Pete?" He said, shoving Gary into the wall with a grunt. "Found someone new already-"

"Don't fucking say it."

"Whore."

Gary heard every word of advice Jimmy had ever given about fighting ring in his ears. He looked up into his ex's eyes and smirked before bringing his heel down onto his knee swiftly. He whined in pain before crumpling onto the floor. Gary ran into his old room and looked around for any sign of his medication. He looked under the bed, still not made, rustled through the clothes, and looked in every cabinet.

He saw a yellow pill bottle thrown on the floor and dived to grab it. After stuffing it into his pockets, he dashed out of the room, passing his ex still on the floor on his way.

"Hey!" He yelled hoarsely.

Gary turned around in response.

"I'm not letting you get away with this."

"With what? Self-defense and getting my prescription back? You'll get arrested before I do."

"Fuck you, Gary."

Gary didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply and turned around without a word. Opening the door and slamming it behind him for the last time.

Pete's eyes widened, seeing Gary almost perfectly safe and sound right in front of him. Gary tried to push past him, but Pete grabbed his shoulders and held him in place.

"Holy shit, I broke his leg."

"Gary."

"Nice to see you too." Gary exhaled.

"What happened?"

"We had dinner, talked civilly, shook hands, and-"

"You're a dick until the end, aren't you?" Gary hummed in response.

"C'mon, we're going home."

"Can I sit in the back?" Gary mumbled as they made their way out of the lawn.

"You're gonna fall asleep."

"Yeah, but I'll fall asleep in the front too. It's cozier back there, let me sleep in style."

"What do you know about style?" Pete said softly, helping Gary into the backseat. 

"More than you do." Gary snickered.

"What makes you say that?" Pete said, climbing into the driver's seat.

"Your sweater," Gary mumbled. "it's too busy."

Pete rolled his eyes. "My sweater is better than anything in your closet."

"You put together my closet, genius."

Pete laughed. "Oh yeah, do you not like it?"

"Maybe."

"Well, we'll go shopping together some time."

He paused. "I'd like that."

Gary heard no reply from Pete, and the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with him. The gentle hum and rock of the car rocked him to sleep, and he thought about the day's events for a moment. He realized then that he always did like that blue and black sweater.

"Pete?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!!! hello everyone and happy new year!!!! i hope you all had a great winter break and i DEEPLY apologize for such a long wait. thank you all for your patience, i will work on updating more quickly in the future <3\. comments are very appreciated!!


	5. Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary and Pete share a moment.

The storm had cleared up significantly, and it was near midnight when they finally arrived home. As Pete parked the car, he looked up to see the stars dimly shining over the town; he always enjoyed stargazing but hadn't had the chance in years. After sitting for another minute to regain composure and collect his thoughts, he climbed out of the driver's seat and opened the backseat door to drag Gary inside. Throwing Gary's arm over his shoulder, Pete shook him awake enough to make it into the house, Gary grumbling in response. Pete fumbled with the keys for a good few minutes but managed to get the door open despite Gary tugging at the collar of his sweater. Stumbling inside, Pete set Gary down on the couch and set him straight, only for Gary to immediately slump back down after. 

Pete let out a sigh of exhaustion he didn't know he was holding in and ran his fingers through his hair. Glancing over at the kitchen table, he noticed an empty wine bottle. Gary must have downed it before leaving; he cringed at the headache that would ensue. He walked back over to the couch to see Gary's eyes closed, his chest rising and falling steadily.

"Oh no, no, no," Pete said softly, lifting Gary out of his sleep, "can't have you sleeping on the couch." 

Gary whined, "Why not?" 

"Bad for your back."

"That stupid bed I've been on has to be worse."

Pete slipped his arms under Gary's back and legs and raised him into an almost-bridal-carry. "Do you not like the guest room?"

"The bed sucks." Gary complained, "and there are no curtains. I can't sleep past 8."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Pete said and started to walk down the hallway. "you can't sleep all day."

Gary just groaned and stayed limp in Pete's arms. They continued to walk down the hallway until they reached the stairs, which Pete began to climb.

Gary opened his eyes, "M'room is downstairs," he slurred, "you missed it."

Pete shushed him and continued walking. After climbing the stairs, Pete shouldered open an ajar door near the attic stairs. The room was lit only by a large window, but Gary could make out a queen bed covered in blue sheets with stars printed on them. Pete lowered Gary onto the bed and closed the door behind them. Gary didn't remember seeing this room before, so that meant one thing.

"Is this your room?" Gary asked, rolling onto his side.

Pete paused, "...Yeah," he sat down on the side of the bed. "I'm sure you've come across it in your adventures."

Gary shook his head.

"No?" Pete raised an eyebrow, "Are you telling me you haven't rummaged through all of my belongings? Who are you and what have you done with Gary Smith?" 

Gary smiled, too tired to laugh. He rolled onto his back again, "Am I sleeping here?"

"Sure, since you hate your room so much."

Gary just hummed. He pulled his leg up towards his chest and undid his shoelaces, flicking his shoes off into a corner of the room.

"If those break something, I'm never letting you in here again."

Gary smiled again, and Pete could make it out through the darkness. The night was deep and blue, and you had a great view of the town from here.

"Who's room was this?" Gary questioned quietly.

"It was my parents'," Pete said, just as quiet, "they had the best room out of them all, in my opinion."

"Where was your room?"

"You don't remember?" Pete tilted his head to the side.

He stared up at the ceiling, "No."

"Gary," Pete whispered, too softly for Gary's liking, "how much of our childhood do you remember?"

Gary laughed this time, cold and icy, back to normal, "Our childhood." he mocked.

"What's so funny?"

"We didn't share a childhood."

Pete looked away from the other boy and crossed his arms, "I was one of your only friends."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you were like- part of my childhood or anything."

Pete felt a sharp sting in his throat, "Yes, it does..." he trailed off, "Just earlier you were talking with me about our childhood... You asked if we were friends."

"Did I?"

"Yes, what the hell?" Pete turned around to face Gary, "Where is this coming from?"

"I dunno."

"You-" Pete started, "you _don't know?_ Jesus Christ, Gary, what is wrong with you?"

Gary shrugged.

Pete stood up, "I cannot believe this!" he exclaimed, "I save you from your psycho of an ex, drive you home, and carry you inside, and now you're doing this."

Gary continued to stare at the ceiling.

"No response." Pete spat, "God, I don't know what I expected from you, but it sure as hell wasn't this."

An uncomfortable silence consumed the room until Gary finally broke it.

"I'm drunk," he muttered.

"I-" Pete stuttered, "what?"

"I'm drunk," Gary said, just as loud as before.

"You!" he let out a deep sigh, "Yes, you are."

Pete realized he probably shouldn't get too upset. After all, Gary had gotten in a fight with his ex, and the effects of the wine were probably starting to kick in. He sat down on the bed again and looked back at the other boy.

"Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"Pete," Gary said, even softer than before. "how did we meet?"

Pete considered getting angry again but decided against it, and he was too tired now anyways. 

"We went to the same school," he started, "and I noticed you always got such good grades. I was struggling in math and needed help to pass. I didn't want to hire a tutor so, I settled for an upperclassman who just happened to sit at my lunch table."

"I remember that," Gary whispered. "you never wanted to copy my work."

Pete hummed, "I wanted to learn the material, not cheat."

"You're weird."

"So are you."

Gary smiled again. It was strange to be called weird, but Gary knew it wasn't derogatory, so he took it as a compliment of sorts.

"You look tired," Pete said, standing up again, "you should get some sleep." 

He reached for Gary's chest, but Gary pushed his hand away, "What the fuck are you doing?" Gary muttered. Even while drunk, he still had fight left in him.

"Gary, you can't-" Pete wondered how to phrase this, "you can't sleep in a binder, right?"

"What?" Gary sat up a little, "What are you talking about?"

"Am I wrong?" Pete asked, "I thought it was bad for your ribs or something."

"No, I-"

"What?" Pete questioned and reached over to Gary's shoulder; he felt nothing. Gary pushed his hand back once again, and Pete stepped back.

"You got surgery..." Pete whispered.

Gary just averted his gaze from the other boy's eyes; they felt like they were boring into him.

"When did it happen?"

"Last year." He answered, without any hesitation.

"In high school, you said that you'd never have the money for it..." Pete trailed off.

"Well," Gary said coldly, "that changed."

Pete's eyes widened, "Gary, you didn't..."

Gary chuckled, "Yeah, stole some cash from the old man."

"And that's why you got kicked out."

"What a detective you are." Gary snorted.

More silence filled the room. It was suffocating, and Pete felt like he had handled everything wrong. Even though it wasn't his fault, Pete still felt the need to help Gary while he was in this situation. He knew this was a touchy subject for him, yet Pete asked- maybe he was a bit drunk as well.

Once again, Gary broke the silence, "How much of our conversation did you hear?"

"With your ex?"

Gary nodded, "What'd you see?"

"Not much," Pete replied, "I was there right before he slapped you."

Gary hummed in response; he was strangely quiet.

"He called you some pretty nasty things," Pete said softly, not wanting to annoy Gary very much, "did he always do that?"

Gary shook his head.

"Well," Pete looked puzzled, "I'm sorry this all happened."

Gary froze in place, and his breathing seemed to stop.

"He sucks anyway," Pete continued, "I'm glad you got your shit and ran."

Gary turned away from Pete.

"How'd you two meet anyway?"

"Um. I don't quite remember. I think we went out to lunch once- next thing I knew, I was moving into his place."

"Did he know about your parents kicking you out?"

"What is this, therapy?" Gary crossed his arms for emphasis, "Yes, he knew about it."

"Why did he take you in?"

"Good fucking question, go ask him." Gary huffed, "Matter of fact, why did _you?_ A loser shows up at your doorstep and begs for shelter, and you say yes to that? You're crazy."

Pete stayed silent.

"How much longer until you kick me out too?"

"Gary, what-"

"Oh, come on," Gary sat up, "you can't say you haven't noticed a trend. Gary shows up to a new place, pitied for all the 'trouble he's been through.' Soon, they all get tired of him and make him leave."

Pete doesn't respond.

Gary breathes out a laugh, "I heard you became head boy after I left. I see you haven't changed."

Pete has had enough, "And neither have you."

Gary turns to face Pete, and they finally lock eyes.

"What happened, Gary?" Pete asked, his voice louder with each word, "So many years pass and you still think everyone's out to get you! You think Jimmy hates you- you think that I hate you-"

"Because you do." Gary interrupts, coldly.

Pete freezes, his posture crumples, "Oh, Gary," He says, much, much quieter, "I don't hate you."

Gary holds his arms and looks down.

"God, is that what you think?"

No response.

"Gary, we've been friends since we were twelve years old. No matter what you do, I just can't-"

Pete steps closer to the bed and kneels, locking eyes with Gary again

"I can't hate you." Gary's eyes soften.

"You've done some dumb shit, and you were really mean to me, but I can't hate you."

"Why?" Gary's voice comes out as a shaky croak.

"I-" Pete pauses, "I don't know. I certainly don't like you right now. I think you've been rude tonight, but I don't dislike you either. I'm neutral, you know?"

"At Bullworth," Gary muttered, "why did you stay with me?"

"I looked up to you."

Gary curled up even more.

"You were so... tough. You never let anything get to you, and I always thought of the insults as your way to toughen me up."

Gary never thought he would regret anything he'd ever done more than he did at that moment. Gary's attempt to distance himself from Pete was interpreted as a show of affection, one that Pete accepted and wanted. Why was Gary so mean anyway? Maybe it was because he'd been bullied all his life and wanted someone to pick on himself. Or perhaps it was because Pete was an easy target, and Gary was bored. In any fashion, Gary hated himself more than anything at that moment. He felt like he had scared away his only friend for the sole purpose of his wants. Gary usually never felt guilty for getting what he wanted, but maybe he had finally grown up. Even now, he was acting selfishly and making Pete upset. Perhaps it was finally time for him to move on from that mindset.

"Gary?" Pete shook him out of his thoughts.

Gary reached out for Pete's shoulders and took hold of them, but continued looking at the floor. Pete shuddered in response to the sudden contact, never having been touched voluntarily by Gary of all people.

"I'm sorry," Gary said, almost inaudibly, "I'm so sorry."

Pete was left speechless, never once in the years they knew each other had Gary ever said he was sorry, especially not to Pete. Pete dragged Gary off the bed onto the floor with him and drew him into a hug.

"Don't be," Pete said, his head on Gary's shoulder, "I understand."

"No, you don't. I was so mean, and I never appreciated anything, and I ruined everything, and I-"

Pete shushed him, and pet the other boy's hair with a spare hand. He felt tears fall onto his neck, and Gary held onto Pete as if he'd die when he let go. Gary shook in Pete's arms, and he realized this was an incredible show of trust from Gary. As suspicious as he usually was, letting his guard down enough to cry in front of Pete was extremely meaningful to him.

"Fuck, your sweater's gonna get wet," Gary choked, lifting his head.

"I thought you hated it?" Pete replied.

Gary laid his head back down and continued to sob. Even though this was a critical moment in their relationship, Pete couldn't help but smile. It felt like he'd finally gotten his friend back, after everything he'd been through in the years they were apart. In truth, Pete missed him, but he wouldn't admit it, not now at least. 

Finally, after at least five minutes of crying, Gary pulled back. His puffy eyes and red nose stared back at Pete, and he gave a weak smile.

"You okay?" Pete asked, helping him back on the bed.

Gary nodded, truly looking thankful.

It had gotten to the point where Pete had known Gary so long that he could tell when he was lying or not. Of course, Gary could still occasionally get one over on Pete, but he had grown much more aware in the past years and was no longer as gullible. In that matter, he had changed, but he was still the same kind Pete Gary had known so long ago. Maybe that was his flaw, Gary thought, one day, his kindness and patience could get the better of him.

"You should get some sleep; I can sleep on the couch."

Gary frowned.

"Something wrong?"

"Can you-" Gary started softly, "stay maybe?"

Pete smiled slightly, "Sure."

Pete took off his jacket and set it on an armchair in the corner of the room, then headed to his wardrobe to get a set of clothes.

"I'm gonna go change," Pete said, opening the door to the hallway, "do whatever to get settled in."

While Pete was gone, Gary took the opportunity to look around the room. A lamp stood on the nightstand on the right side of the bed, an alarm clock on the other side. A bookshelf leaned on the left wall, filled with old books that looked untouched. Jeez, Pete sure wasn't interested in taking up his dad's job. On the right wall was the wardrobe, and Gary wasn't interested in Pete's clothing choices, at least not right now. Gary decided it wasn't the best idea to sleep in jeans, so he slipped out of them and threw them over in the general direction of his shoes; he'd clean up in the morning. Dressed in a complete outfit of a t-shirt and boxers, Gary slid his legs under the covers and gazed out the window. The site of a town asleep late at night is an odd but peaceful sight. You expect people to be bustling around, but instead, it all lies dormant. It's silent in the house, and blue-black darkness envelopes the bedroom. Gary looks out the window until Pete returns.

Dressed in pajama pants and an old band tee, Pete re-enters, surprised to see Gary awake. He sits down on the bed next to Gary and joins him in his window-gazing.

"I hate this town," Gary says, "the only good thing is the stars."

Pete nods in agreement, even though this is his hometown, he wouldn't mind getting away from it sometimes.

"I used to go stargazing all the time with my mom," Pete said, "down at the beach."

"Why'd you stop?"

"She just- didn't wanna go anymore, I guess. Said she had other things to do."

"Do you miss your parents?"

Pete was taken aback but the bluntness but reminded himself that Gary was always blunt. "Yeah, I do."

"It's not even them," Pete continued, "it's their routine too. Even though it's almost been a year now, I still expect my mom to come out for her morning coffee and to read the newspaper." Pete reclines farther, smiling at the memory.

"You know there's- like polaroids and stuff up in the attic?" Gary says, tearing his eyes from the window to look at Pete. "They're of you and your family."

"Oh," Pete breathes, "I didn't know that. You'll have to show me sometime." Gary smirked, 'sometime' implied that Gary wouldn't be leaving soon, which was a relief after the way he had acted.

"Yeah, sure."

Soon, after talking some more, Gary and Pete were lying down and facing in opposite directions.

"Gary, are you still awake?" Pete called out.

"Yes," Gary replied faintly, obviously on the edge of sleep, "what is it?"

"You're a horrible drunk." Pete laughed.

Gary smiled, "So are you."

Even though that wasn't true, Pete didn't feel like debating it.

"Goodnight, Gary," Pete whispered. And he heard no response

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG CHAPTER TO MAKE UP FOR BEING GONE FOR 3 MONTHS. don't count on me for good update schedules, it's not gonna happen. i hope that i'll write chapter 6 soon but this one was a Doozy. thank you for being patient <33


	6. Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary and Pete almost get arrested.

Gary woke up alone, an all-too-familiar feeling, and stretched out his legs and arms. His head was pounding, and his mind was screaming for him to go back to sleep. Ignoring it, he sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, glancing around the room for any sign of Pete. The curtains were drawn open, and Gary's shoes and jeans had been placed neatly in the corner. That had to have been Pete unless Gary started cleaning in his sleep. Throwing himself out of bed, he made his way downstairs and heard some clanging from the living room. He had never noticed it before, but it was rather odd that the kitchen and living room were combined. He assumed it was for convenience, but then again, he couldn't imagine Pete and his family eating on the couch. They must have dined at the island, Gary thought.

Entering the main room, Gary saw Pete cooking something in a skillet, too preoccupied to notice his entrance. He sat down at one of the stools at the table, and leaned on his hands, watching Pete work. After a while, Pete turned around, visibly jumping when he saw Gary.

"Good morning to you too." Gary laughed.

"Jesus!" Pete said, turning back around, "Make yourself known next time... Christ."

"Can do," Gary yawned, "what are we making, Chef Ramsay?"

Pete chuckled, "Cheese omelet, my mom taught me the recipe."

Gary watched as he sprinkled about a full handful of cheddar into the pan. His eyes widened in shock, "You're adding that much cheese?"

"Yeah?" Pete looked over his shoulder, "Why wouldn't I?"

"That's like- a ludicrous amount of cheese."

Pete rolled his eyes, "You'll be thanking me after you have some."

"Sure." Gary looked around, "Do you have any water around?"

"Oh, yeah," Pete reached up to a cupboard for a glass, "let me fix you a cup."

"Thanks, my head is killing me."

Pete snorted, "I bet. You drank like half a bottle of wine within an hour."

"Did I?" Gary's face contorted into a look of disgust, "No wonder last night feels so hazy."

Pete decided not to dwell on that last part. Perhaps it's better if he forgets anyways, last night was a lot to handle. He slid a glass of water over to Gary, being not-so-careful not to spill it. 

Gary took a sip, "Did the cops come last night?"

"Nah," Pete said, untying the apron he was wearing, "I think that weirdo was bluffing anyway."

Gary sniffed, "Not much of a bluffer, that guy. Maybe I knocked some sense into him."

Pete laughed loudly before clasping his hands over his mouth, removing them to say, "I shouldn't be laughing at that, should I?"

Gary chuckled, Pete could be quite endearing at times, he had to admit. 

After finishing the eggs, Pete sat down next to Gary and handed him a plate. Gary was right, they were a bit over-cheesed, but he wouldn't admit defeat over the way he made his omelet. Pete looked over at Gary and realized his outfit choice.

"I see you've decided to go sans-pants this morning." Pete laughed.

Gary looked confused, then went red, then stuttered, "Shit, I totally forgot, I should go change-"

"No, no," Pete laughed, louder than before, "it's okay, you're fine. Have breakfast. Then you can change."

Gary shot Pete a sheepish smile and sat back down, starting on his omelet. Pete had to admit, it was nice to see Gary joking and smiling after the disaster that was last night. He was worried his mood would be affected all day, but Gary proved to be unpredictable once again.

"So," Gary said, mouth half-full, "what's your plan for today?"

"Um. I'm not sure." Pete mused, "I think I'll just relax."

"Oh," Gary looked away, "cool."

"Why, did you have something in mind?"

"Not really," Gary replied, "just had an idea."

"What is it?"

"Can we go out later? I wanted to check something out."

"Sure," Pete smiled, "just let me know when you're ready to go."

After breakfast, the day rolled by slowly. Pete cleaned up around the house a bit, and Gary ran around, trying to prepare whatever he was planning. Through the next few hours, Gary asked Pete for a backpack, towel, and flashlight. Pete prayed whatever he wanted to do later wasn't hiking because Pete  _ hated  _ hiking. Or any physical activity for that matter, asthma never helped his workout plans.

Soon, time slowed down to drag, and the clock struck 9 PM. Daylight was starting to fade, which meant it was time for Gary's surprise. He refused to let Pete drive, so they ended up walking through the square together. Now and then, Gary would duck into random stores to grab something, and Pete would grow more sure that Gary didn't plan this outing in the slightest. Take and run with it was often a strategy adopted by Gary, but this was ridiculous. 

After a longer than anticipated walk, the two boys arrived at the beach. It was now completely dark except for some streetlamps that illuminated the sidewalk. Gary led Pete down the slopes and onto a patch of sand near the shore. He reached into the backpack he was carrying and unpacked a towel. He spread it out before sitting down on it, motioning for Pete to join him. They sat together before Gary reached into his bag once again.

He pulled out two sandwiches, "I brought food."

Pete took one from his outstretched hand, curiously, "You know, you have a bizarre idea of going out."

"How so?" Gary asked, unwrapping his sandwich.

"When you said to go out, I thought you meant brunch or something. I didn't think you meant a late-night beach picnic."

Gary shrugged, "That's not all it is."

"Then what is it?"

"Look up," Gary suggested.

Pete tilted his head back and saw thousands of glowing stars painting the sky. He felt as if the night sky had taken away his breath at that moment. In some of his spare time, he liked to study astronomy as a hobby, and he could see so many constellations. Back home, you were lucky if you could see one on a clear night.

"It's the best place to see stars in the whole city," Gary said, "I used to come out here all the time after I got expelled." 

"Why?"

"I told you," Gary shifted in place, "I like stars, and it's quiet out here, makes it easier to think."

"This is near the spot my mom used to take me," Pete said in a hushed voice, "I miss that."

"I'd make fun of you for being a momma's boy, but I'll hold my tongue for now."

Pete breathed a laugh, "Good."

They fell into a comfortable silence, and the sound of waves breaking on the shore filled their ears. Pete laid on his back and watched the stars. To most people, feeling incomprehensibly small is a scary feeling, but to Pete, it was everything but that. Knowing he was a tiny person with a minor influence was always comforting in some way. It made him feel like he wasn't alone, that if everyone else left him, he'd still be a part of the universe.

Gary, once again, broke Pete out of his sulking, "This is boring," he groaned, "let's do something fun."

"What, identifying star clusters, not your idea of a good time? I pegged you for a space enthusiast."

"Yeah, well, don't peg me for anything else." 

Pete snickered, "Fine, uh- my mom and I used to go swimming here a bunch."

"Pass, don't have a suit." Gary waved his hand.

"Now, you're the one being boring."

"No!" Gary sat up straight, "I just don't want to get wet."

"Don't tell me you're scared of the water."

If there was one thing Gary Smith could never resist, it was a blow to his ego, "Fine, come on."

"Gary, I was kidding-"

"No!" Gary said, grinning, pulling Pete up from the sand, "We're going swimming."

Pete let out an exasperated sigh, and Gary dragged him through the sand into the water. They kicked off their shoes and plunged in, holding hands as they went. Pete swore as soon as his feet got wet, the water was ice cold. Gary just started running, dragging Pete deeper.

"Fuck, dude!" Pete yelled, "It's so cold."

"The faster you get it over with, the faster you get used to it!"

Soon, the boys were up to their necks. Pete was shivering, and Gary was trying to move around as much as he could to get warmed up.

"I hate this so much," Pete said, teeth chattering, "I'm getting out."

Gary tugged his hand and pulled him back, "You're the one who suggested it!"

"Yeah, but-" Pete was interrupted by a mouthful of water, thanks to Gary.

"Oh, fuck you." All bets were off then, Gary tried to pull Pete underwater, and Pete silently thanked his dad for giving him all those lessons. The boys splashed and shoved each other, generally acting like drunken teenagers. Gary had planned on getting alcohol to spice it up but decided against it after his hangover made him feel like he got run over. Even though his eyes were burning, Pete was laughing and smiling. Doing stupid things like this was something he needed after being so uptight for so long. After a bit more of wrestling in the water, Pete was getting too cold, and Gary wasn't a monster, so they climbed out, picked up their shoes, and were suddenly blinded by a flashlight.

"You two," a figure said. "this area is off-limits at nights, stop!"

"Run!" Gary's legs moved before Gary's mind could, and he started running with Pete in tow. Grabbing Pete's wrist, they dashed up the dune and up to the square again. Barefooted and soaking wet was not the most efficient way to escape the police, but it was better than getting arrested.

"Petey," Gary yelled, "if you get caught because of your asthmatic ass- I'm not bailing you out!"

"Likewise!" Pete called back.

They didn't dare look behind them in fear of seeing a police car hot on their trail. The boys continued to run until somehow reaching Pete's house again, after only getting lost once! They threw themselves inside, collapsing on the ground. They were both wheezing, Pete more so than Gary. After a moment of heavy breathing, they looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

"Why is it every time you come inside, you're always wet?" Pete said throughout laughs.

"It leaves a lasting impression."

"And mold spots."

"Exactly."

"Gross!" Pete giggled and pushed Gary playfully.

Gary reclined against the door, "We're wanted men now, Petey.'

"Shut up!" Pete said, slightly more seriously this time.

"The worst that'll happen is we'll get fined or something."

"Didn't we resist arrest? Is that a federal crime?"

Gary shrugged, "Maybe, who knows." He shot Pete a smile. Even though he was a little upset at Gary's recklessness, his smile was enough to make Pete want to forgive him.

"I gotta take a hot shower after that," Pete sighed, "you should get ready for bed too."

"Do I have to go back to the guest room?" Gary asked.

"You make it sound like a punishment,"

" 'Cause it basically is." He interrupted.

"No, I guess you don't have to. Same thing as last night?" Pete questioned.

Gary nodded curtly.

"Fine, I'll see you there."

* * *

And so that routine continued. Gary would continue to ask Pete for a spot in his bed, and Pete would continue to give it up. Until they no longer had to ask anymore, and it became an unspoken agreement. Pete couldn't say that he hated Gary's presence; in fact, it was somewhat comforting. He could keep an eye on Gary to make sure he wouldn't do anything stupid, and he could fall asleep feeling less alone. However, no matter how much changed, they'd always face away from each other, and Pete would be the one to say goodnight. It was a comfortable constant, and the boys were happy with each other for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 in one day baby. okay now im going dark for a while cuz im tired...!!!! luv you all tho follow my tumblr @viddygames for art (peace sign)


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